


A necessary punishment

by Nary



Category: Diablotin
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Control Issues, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, F/M, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Infidelity, Married Sex, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pregnant Sex, Punishment, Royalty, Sadism, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-14
Updated: 2011-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's this?" he asked, eyeing her skin suspiciously.</p><p>Yanina knew immediately what he was talking about - she could feel the touch of his fingers against the faint rope burns that remained from her afternoon's dalliance with Sanadhil.  "Nothing," she lied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A necessary punishment

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Royal Treatment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/163717) by [Measured_Words](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words). 



The Empress was a little surprised that her husband chose to visit her that evening. She had expected him to be desperately busy and preoccupied in the aftermath of the deadly bridge collapse, and he did look worn out and strained as he entered her chamber. Yanina nodded to dismiss the servants who were readying her for bed, even as she sank into a curtsey before him. "Your Majesty," she murmured. This was more for the maids, who were still leaving, than for him - Marl, thankfully, did not insist on proper courtly etiquette when they were alone together. It still felt ridiculous to call someone she had fed a worm to when they were seven 'your Majesty.' But then, she also still found it strange to think of Marl as her husband, though they had been married for half a year already.

Once they were alone, she rose from her obeisance, slightly less gracefully than usual now that her centre of gravity was shifting due to the swelling of her belly. He still had not spoken. "Are you all right?" she asked him uncertainly.

"No," he told her, his voice carefully controlled. "It's been a ghastly day, and I would prefer not to speak about it."

"Of course," Yanina said. She knew her responsibilities. "Come, sit down, let me get you something to drink."

He sank gratefully into a chair as she moved to fetch him a glass of brandy. She had little stomach for the stronger stuff these days, but she kept it on hand for the occasions when he came to her room. These were less often now that she was pregnant - likely with that responsibility fulfilled, he was seeking entertainment elsewhere. Yanina knew about several of his mistresses, and accepted his infidelity as a matter of course. It was all part of their agreement, and it suited her just fine.

She offered the glass to him, and he accepted it without a word. She was just considering whether she ought to sit down as well, or perhaps offer to rub his shoulders, when he suddenly grasped her wrist. "What's this?" he asked, eyeing her skin suspiciously.

Yanina knew immediately what he was talking about - she could feel the touch of his fingers against the faint rope burns that remained from her afternoon's dalliance with Sanadhil. "Nothing," she lied.

He pushed the sleeve of her nightgown up above the elbow, revealing the marks there as well. "Hardly nothing," he said sternly. "Show me the rest."

Yanina untied her gown at the throat, and let it slip to the floor. The red rasping welts were clearly visible about her breasts, upper arms, and around the leg where she'd been bound. She met her husband's gaze evenly, and waited to hear what he would say.

"I see you've had a busy day too," he said, his voice calm and cold. "Is this how you comport yourself during a period of mourning?"

"It was an appointment I made some time ago, and decided not to change."

"Is that so?" He took her wrists in his hands once more, turning them to see the damage - which was admittedly quite minor, and, Yanina thought, would probably have vanished completely in another day or two. "You let this... 'appointment'... leave marks on you. Anyone could have noticed them."

"Not unless they were inspecting me naked, your Majesty," she said sharply.

"Apparently that's not that difficult to do," he snarled, and jerked her down onto his lap. "You know, of course, that you'll have to be punished," he murmured. Yanina nodded - she had expected nothing different. Marl turned her over as easily as he might a child, laying her face down across his legs, pinning her wrists behind her back. She couldn't reach the floor, so her feet were left dangling. The first slap across her bare arse surprised more than stung, but she kept silent - crying out would only make him cross. The next was harder, forcing her to hold back a gasp. He beat her sporadically, without any obvious rhythm, so she never quite knew when to expect the next one, and couldn't prepare herself for it. As stroke layered across stinging stroke, the burning pain grew worse, and her eyes began to water with the effort of keeping quiet. She could tell her arse must be bright red, and knew she would have a hard time sitting down the next day.

Finally, he stopped, breathing hard. Yanina waited, uncertain what he might do next, but proud of herself for having kept from crying out so far. She could feel his cock pressing into her side, and smiled to herself. She knew it wasn't over yet, far from it. "On your back," he instructed her, "on the bed, legs spread like the slut you are." Yanina moved quickly to obey, assuming the position he desired. Marl followed, climbing onto the bed with her, straddling her hips to look down at her. He brushed a curl off her face that had escaped from her braid, then traced his fingers lightly down her cheek, lingering over her throat, and finally continuing down to her breast. He took her nipple between his fingers and squeezed it slowly, watching her face dispassionately for signs of pain. "Who was it?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter," she gasped, as he pinched her still harder. "No one you know."

"One of your little fuck-club friends, then." He twisted, sharp and sudden, and Yanina couldn't hold back a shriek. "Male or female?" he continued once she had quieted again.

"Female," she whimpered, thinking to throw him off the scent. "Tall, dark-haired, big tits..."

Marl released her nipple from his grip, leaving it to throb. "You're lying," he said, still maintaining his icy calm. "You really ought to know better." The slap across her face was unexpected, and she gasped, twisting away from him involuntarily. Marl didn't like that. He took her firmly by the shoulders, pinning her down to the bed, and slapped her again for good measure. Her lower lip, banged against a tooth, was swollen and felt as though it might be bleeding. She licked it gingerly, tasting the salt-sweetness, and saw him smile slightly at the sight.

He edged down her body, pushing her legs further apart, until her hips ached with the effort of keeping them there. Ironically, ropes would have made it easier, she thought, resisting the urge to laugh. Marl didn't normally use restraints - he expected her to stay still when told to do so without needing to be tied there. His fingers were rough as they pushed her lips open, finding her slick and eager. His other hand rested heavily on the lower curve of her belly, holding her down. "I wonder," he said, as if registering some academic curiosity, "whether this gentleman 'appointment' came inside you. I imagine you'd like that. I suspect you begged for it, hm?" He pushed three fingers into her, deep as they would go, and she whined with the discomfort, most unladylike.

"I didn't beg," she confessed when she could speak again. "But I wanted him to, and I told him he could, and then he fucked me long and hard until he finally shot his load deep inside me, and it was... wonderful." She held her breath, waiting for whatever punishment might follow her outburst.

Marl simply nodded, drawing his fingers out of her, leaving her feeling stretched and raw, especially after the pounding she'd received just that afternoon. He touched her clit gently, then more firmly, pressing it harder and harder until she squirmed and cried out. Lifting his hand, he delivered a light slap to her most sensitive parts. Even without much force behind it, it stung, and Yanina sucked in her breath to keep from screaming again. "Since your cunt is still filthy with some other man's seed, you don't deserve to be fucked there," he told her, beginning to unbutton his trousers. Despite his carefully-cultivated veneer of calm, she could tell he was desperately aroused. "Turn over," he said, his voice going slightly ragged at the edges.

Yanina rolled onto her stomach, a less comfortable position than it used to be. His fingers, still wet from her pussy, pressed steadily and insistently against her rear, and that, mixed with a bit of saliva, was all the lubrication she was likely to get. She gritted her teeth as he forced his way into her arse, but knew better than to try and touch her clit without his permission. Once he was in, it wasn't so bad - she was able to relax around him, spread as wide as she was able, though her arse was still sore from his earlier spanking. He fucked her slowly at first, hanging on to his control just a little while longer, but she wanted more, wanted him to finally unleash himself upon her. She twisted her neck as far as she could, trying to see him out of the corner of her eye. "I did everything he asked for," she gasped, "I sucked his cock and begged for more, and when he fucked me I came and came, over and over..."

Marl growled something incoherent as he reamed her harder, and wrapped her heavy red braid around his wrist, giving it a sharp tug that pulled her head back, making her back arch. She braced herself against the mattress as best she could, knowing what was likely coming next, relishing the moment of anticipation before his fingers closed around her throat. "That's right," she whispered, barely able to find the breath to speak, "that's it, oh gods, let go!" His cry as he came was hoarse and gutteral, and sounded as if it had been wrenched out of him by force. His fingers clenched at her neck once more as he spasmed, tight enough to make her vision dim at the edges, and then released her as he fell across her back, pressing her into the mattress. They lay there like that for a few moments, nestling peacefully in striking contrast to their recent violence.

"Good girl," he murmured at last, kissing the back of his wife's neck. Yanina could tell just from his voice how very badly he had needed the release. "You still don't get to come, though, you little whore," he added, but he sounded more teasing now than angry, and she smiled back at him. It was a highly satisfactory arrangement, she decided, when she could amuse herself with a lover in the afternoon, and get punished for it so splendidly at night.


End file.
